Misfits
by HikamiTZ
Summary: But that was jumping ahead of himself. She had only said “like.” But it sounded like "love." He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to do it. They were alone. They were the loneliest people in the world. AllenxLenalee
1. This Way

_Misfits  
_

-This Way-

* * *

There is a really tight feeling just below her throat when she sees him. It must be like asphyxiating slowly, because she doesn't think she has the strength to bear it. All over her body she has been pounded into bruises before. She has bled from the sharp and the blunt. But this tiny, barely noticeable weight is surely crushing her. It is so gentle that it mars. It is so ignorable that it rankles.

She is irked more than she has ever been in her life. Not at the burden, and not at him, but at herself. There is—nothing, no one—else to be angry with. This situation is driving her mad.

In the room there were four of them. He was sitting on his knees, gathering the cards littering the floor into a pile. Lavi eagerly grabbed a few and handed them over, even if it would have clearly been easier if Allen himself just handled all of them at once. Krory was leaning over, an air of excitement making him glow as Lavi and Allen continued to show him examples of a new card game.

Lenalee was only pretending to pay attention. On some basic level she was probably aware of what game it was and what strategy she would use in Krory's place, but that wasn't important. She sat in a chair a few feet away, the most comfortably set of all of them. Thankfully, the others hadn't noticed how uncharacteristically quiet she was being.

"Ah," Lavi said awkwardly. Allen imitated the sound as he and Lavi juggled the positions of their hands. "Here," Lavi forced at last, managing to awkwardly give Allen the cards he was holding. It was a simple dance that should have meant absolutely nothing, but it made the weight inside Lenalee that much heavier.

She had no reason to be jealous, if this _was_ jealousy. It probably wasn't. All she knew was that she didn't like this. She didn't like Lavi and Allen talking. No, that wasn't true. She didn't mind them talking. She just wished she could be talking with them, if only so that she could say she was talking with Allen. If only that she could say Allen was looking at her, smiling at her, paying attention to her.

These thoughts were, as usual, maddening, and Lenalee knew she couldn't take it. Without a word, she stood up and left the room, disappointed when the others didn't really notice. This feeling was stupid, she realized, because if they had noticed, it would have only been out of worry—which _did_ qualify as attention, which meant she was craving it—but that worry would lead to questions she really didn't want to answer.

She wanted to be able to let it all go. She wanted to feel happy when Allen looked at her, and then feel just as happy when he turned to the next person. However, deep within, she knew that these levels of happiness were unequal.

Lenalee wandered around Home for a good twenty minutes, not bothering to stop by her brother's lab. She didn't want to see him, because _he_ certainly would pay her attention, and he wasn't the one she wanted to notice her. He _always_ noticed her, and there was nothing satisfying about that. It was probably the same feeling a daughter would feel when her parents told her they loved her artwork—of_ course_ they would.

So instead, she idled around other busy places, like the scientists' workrooms and the kitchen. No one noticed her, which was to be expected since she was utterly silent the entire time.

The twenty minutes she was gone for felt like much longer, and she was put off when she learned just how much time had not gone by. With no other options, she returned to her chair by the silly card game. They looked up when she entered, no one really greeting her more than Lavi's tiny "Yo." Still, their eyes rose. Lenalee only looked at Allen, and found the weight was still there when their eyes met. Somehow, as he gazed at her in that brief second, the weight seemed more bearable by the smallest of increments.

Nothing really happened for the next several hours other than they had all gone off to do something else.

_I love him. I love him. I think I love him. I love him. Yes, I love him. I really…I think I love hi—no! Of course I do! Stop being stupid. I love him._ Lenalee attempted to repeat the same phrase over and over and over in her head for the rest of the day, but it was constantly interrupted by a little string of doubt. And she had no idea why. It was very obvious she loved him. She at least liked him. Yes, she loved him.

She even meditated with Kanda to reinforce this fact.

_What is this stupid weight? Is it here because I love him, or because I'm not sure that I love him? But I love him. I look at him and the weight is there. I love him. It keeps getting heavier. No, it's just uncomfortable. I love him. I need to tell him. I love him. Will that make it go away? I'm not sure. I want it to go away. It's just uncomfortable. Is it here because I love him? I love him. I'm not sure I love him. I have to love him. I love him. I need to tell him. I have to tell him. He needs to know. I need to know. I need to tell him._

These thoughts made her want to cry. When she wanted to cry, she walked, so she did. She wandered around again. She stood in doorframes for short seconds before proceeding to new destinations. It was a cycle that repeated itself every dull day.

Despite having wandered to _this_ room countless times before, it was different today. She couldn't loiter at the entrance this time. Allen was here, and above all places, it became the most desirable.

It took her a few seconds of staring at him to decide what to say. He knew she was there, he looked up at her and smiled and the weight was back. But his smile made it a good weight, not an enjoyable weight, but she didn't want it to go away so badly.

"What are you doing?" she said at last. Sure, it was phrased like a question, but she wasn't actually looking for an answer. It was obvious that Allen was reading. This was a library, and Allen was on a couch, and there were books on the short table in front of him, nevermind that he wasn't holding any of them.

Allen shrugged at her question. Lenalee took this to mean that she wouldn't bother him if she stayed. It could have been an assumption. She had recently become worried that every time they were together, Allen would be bothered by her presence.

Lenalee wasn't sure when but she had taken the seat next to him, pulling her legs and arms inward so as to give Allen all the space he needed. She hoped she didn't look as awkward as she felt. Allen didn't notice if she did.

There was a book labeled "Italy" in a large font on the table.

"Looking at the pictures?" It wasn't even a half-joke—more like a quarter-joke, if it was even a joke.

Allen hummed through his grin, though it grew smaller gradually. It was quiet again for a little while.

"Ever been to Italy?" He broke the silence this time, albeit hesitantly. A valiant yet useless attempt.

"No." She was the master of simple answers, if only for this encounter.

"I have." Yes, he had. Twice. Once with Cross, and once on a mission. Neither experience had been very enjoyable.

"Really?" Her response was soft, yet still excessive. It would have sufficed if she had just made some kind of noise.

"Yeah, I went with Master Cross one time when I was thirteen." There was a moment in which he paused, deciding what to say about the incident. He couldn't think of anything appropriate. "I also went there on my first mission."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah. It was with Kanda."

"Oh, yeah." She repeated herself, which was not a good sign for either of them.

Allen wasn't liking how awkward this conversation was, but the only thing he could do was continue to fill the silence.

"They've got pretty good food there." Allen could have hit himself. Was food the only thing he could think about?

But Lenalee didn't mind. Food was a passion of his that she liked about him. She liked a lot of things about him.

"What kind of food?" She nodded through his list, waiting for his lips to stop moving long enough for her to conclude that he had finished. By the end, she felt ashamed that she hadn't listened. Didn't she love him? She should have listened. It was because she didn't listen that they fell into silence again.

"Wanna go get something to eat?" Allen _should_ have hit himself. It wasn't even near dinner time. The lack of response in the first three seconds of the question's aftermath reminded him painfully of this. In his embarrassment, he jumped to explain himself. "Uh, it could be something small. I mean, like a snack. Or how about something sweet? I'd like something like that about now. You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, we could do something else. Just whatever you want to do. I could really go for anyth-"

After several attempts at trying to answer him, Lenalee giggled. Though it was genuine laughter, she felt like she might have forced it a little bit. "You're rambling." She didn't know why she pointed that out. She could have said it in a better way, at least.

Allen blushed, clearly having made things worse for himself. He stood up quickly so she couldn't see him turning red with humiliation. "Come on, let's go then." She hadn't accepted his invitation, but he was going to make her so they could forget about this already.

"Wait." Lenalee didn't know what made her say it, but she knew why she had, and it was filling her with uncertainty and a tinge of fear. However, some part of her decided that it was now or never, and never wasn't an option. "Wait, I…here. Sit down for a moment." Allen looked at her, not curiously. He just looked, and not for a long time either, because she quickly explained, "There's something I want to tell you."

Rethinking this, Lenalee realized that his sitting down wasn't very necessary. She was making this too intimate, too awkward. It was being built up too much. It wasn't big enough of a deal for all this. But there was no turning back.

There were many ways she could build this up, all of them very stupid, but she had to pick one. Allen waited until she worked it out, obliviously.

"My brother gets really worried, doesn't he?" she started, hoping it didn't sound too lame. She would build this up because that would be fair. She had to give Allen a chance. "I mean, you can only wake him up by telling him I'm getting married. Kinda sad, right?" This was definitely not going to be about Komui.

Allen said nothing. Lenalee swallowed.

"See, I never thought he had a good reason to be that way," she continued. It was getting more obvious now. It had to be. "I've never really thought about that sort of thing. Never really had a reason…before."

Lenalee couldn't look at Allen, but his eyes were locked on her face.

She couldn't find a way to connect it, so after a long, long pause, she just said it. "I like you." She couldn't even say his name, and she didn't want to use the word "love" because that would be too big of a commitment. That would leave her with no where to run.

It was out there now. Allen stared at Lenalee while she stared at her knees. He was not shocked at all, but neither had he expected it. In all honestly, he had never fully considered this to happen. He could either return the feelings or reject them, the classic decision.

Those would have been his only two options were they normal people. But they weren't.

They were in more pitiful circumstance than any of the priests. They had pledged their lives to God and to war, willingly or not. They were exorcists.

Allen had never considered it because he didn't think he would ever have to. He wasn't even sure if he would survive the war, even if they won. He was a parasitic accommodator, wasn't he? He didn't think he would have the strength to be more than a warrior, especially after the final battle. If this meant love…to be a lover seemed unfathomable. But that was jumping ahead of himself. She had only said "like."

But it sounded like "love."

He couldn't let her run away.

"Lenalee," he said tenderly, but not patronizingly. Though she didn't look up, he knew she was listening to every word. She had to be at this point. "Lenalee, we can't…"

"I know!" she cried. "I kn-"

Allen grabbed her wrist, and something made Lenalee finally turn to face him. Their gazes brought the weight back, but this time, his eyes weren't soothing the pain.

"We can't," he repeated firmly, as though he had to make sure both of them heard it. They stared at each other for a long time, the weight dropping lower and lower inside of Lenalee with each moment. Her eyes grew wide and bright with realization of the truth dawning on her, but she wouldn't let herself cry, yet.

Her lips opened a little, but she didn't know what she was supposed to say.

"I'm sorry." Allen frowned, truly meaning it.

Lenalee understood what the weight was now. It was gravity. It was reality.

Night fell, and Allen wasn't sure if he could claim to feel worse than he was sure Lenalee felt, but he felt pretty bad. He had decided to retire early. Dinner had been terrible. The giant pit in his stomach was growing rapidly, and all the food he ate only served to make it a giant pit filled with food. Lenalee brought her food to the laboratories, much to Komui's delight, even if her smile was very hollow. Komui wasn't being very observant. Allen tried his best to act normal with Lavi, Bookman, and Krory, but he thought maybe Lavi noticed something or Bookman might have shot him a glance. He was thankful when Miranda came over and managed to distract them all from his depression—her gloom completely overshadowed his, even if it was routine. She was very good at exuding it.

But Allen wasn't getting any more rest from his early bedtime. His movements were slow as he washed his face and undressed, making him take far longer than normal to even get under the covers. He could only toss and turn in his sheets, thoughts nothing peaceful. There was no way he could ever fall asleep like this.

Around one o'clock in the morning, he simply gave up. He couldn't stand his own tortured thoughts being his only company, so he threw on a shirt and some pants before going for a stroll. He didn't want to go outside—it would be freezing. He wanted to talk to someone, to do something to get his mind off things, but no one came to mind. There was really only one person to talk to about anything at this point.

He felt sick to his stomach, staring at his shadow cast on the door to Lenalee's room. _I shouldn't be here._ Oh, how he shouldn't. He brushed his hand on the door, tracing down it with his fingers. He really shouldn't.

The doors there were thin enough. He tapped strongly on the door with his fingertips. He was pretty sure it was loud enough. There was no response, so he knocked lightly instead. Lenalee did not answer, but Allen was sure he heard the faint rustling of bed sheets. He felt strangely calm and courageous, so he opened the door and peered inside.

Lenalee was sitting up on her bed against the wall, staring out the window at the moon. Allen had never really answered her statement. Sitting there all that time, she realized that she didn't know how he felt. She didn't look up as he entered, but she knew he was there, and he knew she knew. He stepped inside and closed the door softly, standing there for a long time. Neither said a thing.

_We can't._

Allen picked up a deliberate stride, coming to a stop before her by the bed. She turned her head but didn't really look at him. She wasn't depressed. Both of them were just lost in thought. They couldn't be normal.

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her head against his chest. It was a terrible hug, so he bent his knees to make it better. But that wasn't comfortable, so he sat down next to her. She slid her arms between his and grabbed his shoulders. Even for a man of his size, Allen's arms seemed large enough to hold the whole world.

Neither of them had ever kissed anyone. Lenalee had kissed Komui before. They were siblings after all. Allen had been kissed on the cheek by some of Cross's lovers who found him adorable. There might have been a drunk or two who had gotten him once on the lips. Neither of them had ever _kissed_ anyone.

They were still somewhat in each other's arms, but their heads were raised, watching each other. Neither could really be sure of what the other one wanted—that was the poisonous nature of the word "like." Allen might have moved his head forward an inch once or twice. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to do it. Lenalee didn't want to move at all.

Allen had to settle for it, even if it was pointless and meaningless and everything they didn't want. He pressed his lips against hers softly in a kiss children might share. There was no real passion of fiery lovers, but it was just as intense.

It was short. They settled for resting their cheeks against each other now. Lenalee was huddling against him, almost in fear. Allen was trying to cover her like a blanket, holding her like a newborn.

Eventually, he led them both to lie on the bed together in that same embrace. His arms pulled together more tightly, now too afraid to let go. Lenalee's arms snaked down his back to reciprocate his new need. With his face buried in her shoulder, she threaded the fingers of one hand through his hair and cradled his head.

Despite the overwhelming need to, neither of them shed a single tear. Being together, the desire to cry dissolved, replaced by the want to somehow be even closer together. There was no distance left between them, yet they still pulled tighter.

In this comfort together, Lenalee could only think about herself, and Allen could only think about himself. They could only think about what they wanted, about what they could never have. They were alone. They were the loneliest people in the world.

Allen turned his head into her neck, his lips pressing there. It was no kiss, but he still felt the softness of her skin on his lips. Lenalee found it comforting. Allen's nose was being smashed, but he still took deep breaths through it. Lenalee smelled fresh, and nice, and that _he_ found comforting. Maybe this was how a mother would smell. He never had a mother, not in anyone.

Lenalee was really the only woman in his life.

They pulled back, each settling on the single pillow. Allen was frowning at her, but not because of her. He let his arm rest over her body as she continued to stroke his hair. Despite what had just happened, she still didn't really understand what his feelings were. But she was overflowing with her own.

She pulled herself forward and rested their foreheads together, closing her eyes when their noses touched. Allen's eyes stayed open, watching her face. His fingers dragged up her back to the base of her neck, but he didn't find a place where he wanted them to stop, so he decided to continue the motion down and then back up again, over and over.

Lenalee found no shame in enjoying everything he did. She didn't even feel obligated to return any of it, but she still wanted to. She massaged his neck strongly, working out the kinks knotting there. His fingers became lighter as he forgot to move them, eyes becoming half-lidded with the kneading. Her fingers tired out quickly, so she ran them through his hair again. After quick rest, she rubbed his scalp. Allen could have fallen asleep like that, but he didn't want it to be over.

He turned onto his back, pulling her to lie across his chest. His left hand now came to rest along her back, the blackened fingers finding the bottom of her nightshirt. The long nails traced lightly against her skin, and she felt very good. Neither of them considered this to be crossing any line. It was harmless physical contact.

Lenalee could think of nothing to do in this position, so she just held him tightly. Allen held her close with his other hand while his other grazed her body. Though it was uncomfortable, Lenalee decided to turn her head to look at him. Her right hand came up to hold the side of his head while her lips touched his jaw line. Allen didn't move, not sure where to lean in.

Lenalee scooted up to kiss his cheek lightly. She was worried that she was crushing him, and she was. Regretfully, Allen sat up, supporting her back with his right arm. Lenalee remained in his arms like that, gazing at his face. When Allen had made himself comfortable against the wall, he pulled her up for another small kiss. Lenalee turned over to straddle him, her arms against the wall, trapping his head. Allen's hands came to rest around her waist gently.

Lenalee opened her mouth and pressed harder, surprising neither of them. Allen let her deepen the kiss, too afraid to take control of it. Neither of them had ever kissed anyone. He didn't move at all, worried she might pull back if he did.

There was air to breathe now. Lenalee was slightly out of breath, watching Allen's eyes for any answers. Allen felt words—nonsensical words—welling up in his throat.

"Lena-" She kissed him again, and this time, as he closed his eyes, his body pulled off the wall. Lenalee's arms grabbed at his back while he squeezed her tightly—their first act of foreplay. Allen remembered that he shouldn't be here, doing this. But he couldn't stop now.

The kiss was becoming rougher, more desperate. Allen was actively participating now, caressing her tongue with his. Lenalee was still the one in control, though not really understanding what she was doing. Allen found it gross, not sure why so many people were into it. It was wet and strange. But it was Lenalee, so he ignored the new development and let her continue. He was going to have to give a little to get.

They were both panting now, feeling the breath of the other in their close proximity. The comfort was all gone, but neither would admit it. Had they gone too far? The thought was unbearable.

Lenalee fingered the buttons on Allen's shirt, not sure if she should do it. Allen misinterpreted this and unbuttoned them himself. Lenalee, somehow feeling expectations welling up inside, traced along the curves of his developing muscles. The toughness of his chest surprised her, but the expectations were still there. Lenalee bent down and kissed his neck lightly, barely brushing her lips there and making him shiver. The warmth of her mouth returned as she gingerly bit and sucked at the same spot. It was sure to turn red.

Allen put a hand to her head and pushed lightly. Lenalee came up and looked at him, expectantly. Allen frowned. He couldn't say, "We can't," anymore. They already were.

"Lenalee," he whispered. "How far is this going to go?" He didn't know where he wanted it to go, but he knew he wanted it to go.

Lenalee stared at him, having thought he already had decided where this was heading. It dawned on her that both of them were uncertain.

"We only have now, don't we?" she said at last. It was a terrible statement.

Allen nodded, waiting for her to decide. He started to consider what he was feeling, and he was scared of what he found.

"Now is our only chance," Lenalee said, a tiny sob hiding in her words. She was afraid. She didn't want it to go too far. This was too fast. But it couldn't continue after this night. "How far do you want to go?"

That was her answer.

Allen pulled her down and started another kiss, hoping Lenalee would make it into one like their previous kiss. He was letting her do what he thought she would want from this since he felt so guilty about doing something he was sure only he wanted. He would fool himself into making her happy.

In the end, Allen felt despicable. He hadn't paid her any attention, had no idea what she got out of it, could not remember if she screamed or cried, whether it was with joy or pain. He was so selfish, so guilty of ignoring her, and he would continue to be so in the aftermath. He was horrified.

He held her to him again, trying to bring back the comfort they had bathed in before. It was gone, he couldn't even remember it. In the darkness, Lenalee could have been crying, and he wouldn't have known. She was so still that she might have been dead.

Somehow, with everything else she was feeling, Lenalee was able to feel at ease. She wasn't happy—she could never be. This was the end, and they had made the most of it. Or had they made too much of it?

They were sick of questions. They were sick of words. They were sick of the world. So they ignored it and thought only of themselves as they had for the entire night. They would enjoy their last moments together, no matter what mistakes they might have made.

It was their only night. Allen held on tight throughout it, knowing it would have to end with the sun. He resented the morning that was quickly coming.

What they were doing wasn't right, he knew. He shouldn't be there with her. They shouldn't love each other. They couldn't. Even so, he was content to stay this way, if only for one night.


	2. This Mess

_Misfits_

-This Mess-

* * *

At least these giant baths were good for something. Allen found trying to drown himself in them the best thing he could be doing with his morning. What better way to enjoy the hole you've dug for yourself than to fill it with water?

_What am I going to do?_ Allen wondered miserably, bubbles trailing from his mouth. There wasn't much of a choice. He and Lenalee had to talk, but he wasn't sure what he could say at this point. His gut was telling him to run for his life. His lungs were telling him to surface.

Allen sat up, the hot water rolling off his head as he gulped more air before he laid back down in the bath. Idly, he controlled the flow and size of bubbles from his mouth, mulling in his stupor.

_I'm going to die, aren't I?_ Allen realized. This secret was way too big for him to handle. If anyone caught any wind of it… If it made its way to Komui…

Every bit of air in him escaped with one rough push. Allen marveled in the feeling of his lungs collapsing, deciding that would be a much more comfortable way to go than what Komui would do if he found out.

Something big pulled painfully at his hair. Allen gasped in shock, water flooding his empty chest. A giant hand pulled his head to the surface, and Allen sputtered and choked on the new oxygen. When he was able to open his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to be relieved that it wasn't Komui.

"We need to talk."

Yes, they probably did, but Allen really didn't want to. He already felt bad enough leaving Lenalee in her room alone, sleeping peacefully, unaware that the end had come. He didn't need Cross to make him feel that much worse.

Cross pulled him out of the water and onto his feet. Allen stared blankly at him for a long time—Cross stared back, of course, not one to be intimidated by his own apprentice—until he stepped out to grab a towel, trailing water behind him. His drying pace was very lazy and uninspired, especially as he leaned over to squeeze his hair out. He dressed just as slowly, not bothering to put on his vest or tie. He had a feeling they would get dirty very soon if he did.

His master had been watching him patiently, probably with the intent of making sure Allen didn't try to make a break for it. Allen knew better, even if he wasn't sure why his mind was telling him to escape. He wouldn't get away anyways.

When Allen was finished, Cross walked out and down the corridor. The silent Allen knew he was expected to follow, so he did. Disconcertingly, he felt like he was walking a death march.

It was very early. Most people weren't awake yet, so Allen didn't understand why they had to go so far to find some privacy. But Cross led him to a large storeroom on one of the lower levels. It was a little chilly inside, not helped by some of the steel paneling in the walls. But it would do. There weren't any golems here.

Except for the golden one resting on Cross's shoulder.

Allen eyed Timcanpy uncertainly. He suddenly realized that he couldn't remember where Timcanpy had been the day before. Had he been with him? Allen's eyes widened. Did Timcanpy follow him to Lenalee's room?

Cross's face betrayed nothing, no answers or emotions. Allen was very worried. His master's face might have been a blank sheet in its lack of expression. With every passing minute of silence, he was sure that the pressure he was feeling was Cross's attempt at making Allen snap and spill everything. Allen would tell nothing about it, too afraid that Cross already knew all the details.

"A storeroom, Master?" Allen asked, doing his best to not shiver in the stale air. He was still wet from before.

Cross did not smirk as Allen expected him to. "Is there a problem with this room?" His voice was uncharacteristically calm and soft. Allen's shaking might have increased in a newfound terror.

"No, it's fine."

Cross watched Allen for another long time as if making Allen try to guess what he was thinking. Allen hoped to be guessing what Cross was _not_ thinking.

"What was it you needed to talk to me about?" Allen braved. He might as well get whatever it hopefully wasn't over with.

Timcanpy left his perch on Cross's shoulder and flew about in several circles before settling on Allen's head. Allen tried to keep his eyes on Cross, ignoring the golden distraction nestling in his hair. Cross finished lighting a cigarette, looking clearly stressed. An emotion at last!

"Seems I always gotta bail you out of your shit, my stupid apprentice," Cross remarked, taking a long drag. Allen waited patiently for more, and he received. "There seems to be some electricity between you and Miss Lenalee. Anything you care to tell me about?"

Allen's eyes narrowed into a full-out glare. "I'm sure if you want to say that much then there isn't anything to tell." He swatted the golem off his head, leaving Timcanpy to flutter to control itself in the air.

Cross nodded. "Saw everything I needed to see."

Timcanpy was flying sullenly around Allen's head, begging silently for forgiveness at betraying his secrets. Allen hit Timcanpy away again. "You pervert. Whatever happened to privacy?"

If Cross had been smiling, he would have had the same effect on his student. "Ah, don't worry about that. 'S not like I have a problem with you bangin' the ladies. You can get all you want, for all I care."

Allen's eye began to twitch in anger. A large urge to punch Cross in the face was swelling inside him. He clenched his fists tightly.

Cross eyed his apprentice's hands, crushing the end of his hardly-spent cigarette in his fingers. "Of course, I _do_ have a problem with whatever plans you may have to woo her. You've got a big job to do, idiot."

"I'm not wooing anybody!" Allen snapped. "Though I don't see how that's any of your business!"

The walls echoed with the slow steps Cross took as he moved closer to Allen. Allen never blinked once. "I think I've reasonable cause to be concerned, Allen." Cross's voice was very low, making him sound more dangerous than before. "It's one thing for you to have a fun night. Go ahead, be my guest. But you're such a little prick, aren't you? You're so damn immature that you think you can get away with whatever you want with whoever you want, and if you ever feel so inclined to run away with some fancy in mind, _then_ it becomes my fucking business." Cross was looming over his student now, making the mood horribly dark. It took all the willpower in the world for Allen to merely swallow his saliva rather than spit it in Cross's face.

"You don't have to worry about me." Allen tried to keep it civil, because the only other words he had on his mind were anything but so.

Cross chuckled lowly. "Of course I do." He was done looming, content to stew in arrogance instead. "You're the kid who wanted his daddy back so badly that he followed the Millennium Earl. How do I know you won't do it again?"

Something inside Allen was suddenly very heavy. The thought of turning Lenalee into an akuma was…

"I would never…" Among the other things, Allen was now shaking with rage.

But Cross pretended to not hear him. "And how do I know Lenalee wouldn't do it herself?"

Dying in battle was something they were all prepared for every time they strapped on their uniforms. They had lost many comrades, and Allen knew how much it tore Lenalee apart when any of her family was killed. Somehow, he had never imagined what could happen if someone she was really close to like Komui or Lavi or Kanda or…

Allen swallowed involuntarily, cursing himself for showing an opening to Cross. Nervously, he jumped to defend Lenalee. "Lenalee isn't me," he tried. "Don't compare her to anyone but herself."

Cross raised his eyebrows as though he was smiling. "Of course not. Just like I won't compare anyone else in the world who ever grieved for a loved one. Any other _human_."

Lenalee wasn't any other human, Allen wanted to say, but found that smug look on Cross's face to be nauseating and decided to keep his mouth closed. Cross sighed and raised his hand out, a black monolith rising from the ground to meet it. The chains surrounding it scattered, and from its confines, a pale corpse of lace emerged. Maria turned to face Allen, eerily silent. Allen could only stare up at her gray face.

Cross turned and began walking to the exit. "Where are you going?" Allen called, spite lingering in his voice.

Pausing, Cross turned back and said, "To clean up this mess," as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Allen glared and gritted his teeth, jumping after his master. "We ended it last night!"

Cross narrowed his eyes and faced Allen fully, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket as though he was bored. "You idiot, that was a beginning if I ever saw one."

Allen was unable to think of a response. He had decided that it had been the end between him and Lenalee long before it even happened. Who was Cross to say such a thing?

"Don't worry. I'll do my best to let you stay friends, even if it might be a while before it gets back to that. Your night life might go down the drain, though," Cross remarked, turning for the door once more.

Utterly disgusted, Allen found his legs moving on their own. He raced across the room and socked Cross in the face before he or the general had any idea what had happened.

Cross was still, reeling from the shock that came with his apprentice's new gall. Allen was panting heavily, marveling at how his fist tingled and how the satisfaction welled within him.

"You aren't my father," Allen gritted out, still pumped from the adrenaline. "You leave us alone, you bastard!"

Cross fingered his red cheek, getting over the moment quickly before kicking his apprentice in the gut. The force sent Allen to the ground where he clutched for the breath he had suddenly lost. Cross kicked him over onto his back before grabbing his lapel and hoisting him into the air.

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want," Cross growled mercilessly, pulling Allen's shirt tighter. Allen grabbed the general's arm, intent on trying another punch, but Cross beat him to it. He backhanded the younger exorcist before planting his fist into Allen's already collapsing stomach. Allen sunk to his knees and hacked for oxygen, resisting the urge to throw up. He only managed to look up when the room became very dark as Cross closed the door and left Allen in the storeroom.

Allen crawled to the door, Timcanpy coming to rest on his shoulder halfway. The door had indeed been locked. Allen shoved against it with his free shoulder several times, but it didn't budge.

"Damnit," he seethed, climbing shakily to his feet. His left hand scraped against the metal surface as he struggled to synchronize with it. Just as light was being emitted from the cross on his hand and he could feel the ghostly wisps of his cape, something strange invaded his mind. He found his synchronization thrown out of whack suddenly and he lurched forward, losing control of his body. The feeling immediately left him as his forehead slammed into the door, his black arm still in its dormant state. Allen turned around and saw Maria watching him intently.

Allen's back hit the door and he sunk again, this time in frustration. He pounded the floor with his fist, startling Timcanpy.

"_Damnit!_"

Cross would have to wait a while before he could do anything. But that was part of the plan anyways.

Lenalee ordered rice for breakfast, even if the time might have implied it was more like a brunch. It had taken her a good fifteen minutes to decide what to put on her unsettled stomach. But only three grains of the meal into it, she felt nauseous. It somehow tasted buttery and strong. She pushed the meal around with her utensils, contemplating how to make it disappear without eating it. Just looking at it left that obnoxious taste on her tongue and her throat closed up. Lenalee walked inconspicuously to the trash can, taking a nervous glance around before emptying the contents of her bowl into the garbage. She left the bowl on the counter, making eye contact with no one. Talking wasn't very appealing.

Allen had not been in the cafeteria, something that might have surprised her if she wasn't too busy feeling ill. She knew she needed to find him. There was something she was feeling that had been left unresolved, though she couldn't put words to it. That didn't matter. Her brain—common sense—was telling her to see him. But he was no where to be found.

Somehow this relieved her. Just because she had to see him didn't mean she wanted to. She didn't know what she'd do when she'd see him after _that_ night. She didn't know what _he'd_ do when he saw her. That was the more frightening prospect.

"Hey!" a bright voice called. Lenalee's vision was assaulted with bright red and she tried to smile. She hoped it looked convincing.

"Hi, Lavi," she responded calmly, letting the red-head come up to walk along beside her. Her eyes were trained on the floor, but she did her best to not exude the uneasiness she was feeling.

Lavi might have noticed something, but Lenalee couldn't know for sure.

"Kro-Kro and I were gonna try playing that game with Kanda today. Wanna join?

In her daze, Lenalee took a few seconds to process what had been said. "Game?"

Lavi grinned. "You know, the card game we were teachin' him yesterday."

Lenalee didn't remember teaching anyone any game, until she remembered that blur of a day for what it was.

"Oh, with Allen. Whist, right?"

"Yeah. Never thought Allen'd play a game that wasn't Poker, hm?"

Now she remembered. Lavi had been the one teasing Allen for not _really_ knowing how to play cards after inviting him to a game of Picket. Not fond of the game, Allen indignantly pointed out that he had played Whist several times, which was far more popular in London, and a much better game than his silly French one, thank you very much. Krory, stuck in the audience during the exchange, had wondered aloud how to play these card games (his experiences with Poker anything but enjoyable), hence the lessons of the day before.

"I guess. I don't know if I'm really up for it today, Lavi. I'm not feeling very well. Did you ask Allen?"

"Nah, can't find him anywhere." Lavi raised an eyebrow, throwing his arms behind his head. "Feeling sick?"

Lenalee put on a smile and laughed light-heartedly. "No, not really. I just don't feel like I'm really with it today. You know what I mean?"

She didn't actually expect him to, but Lavi smiled knowingly and nodded. "Man, I get that feeling all the time. You do your thing. Guess I'll go find Johnny or somebody, then. Lemme know if you need something, 'kay?"

As Lavi made to turn into the next corridor, Lenalee felt oddly happy. Lavi never really said all that much that wasn't a joke, and for him to say something so…considerate, well it lifted her spirits a bit. _Lavi's a nice guy,_ she said to herself, smiling at his back.

Her smile fell into a curious frown when Lavi was stopped dead in his tracks. A much taller man accompanied by the light scent of tobacco stood in his path—Cross Marian. Lavi was pushed out of the way as the general made his way past him, idly smoking a cigarette he had nicked off a finder.

"Hello there, Lenalee," Cross greeted nonchalantly, tapping at his cigarette to loosen the ash. "Fancy meeting you here."

"General Cross," Lenalee breathed. The man was undeniably tall, much taller than her. His presence often took her breath, usually because she was lost in his giant shadow.

"Actually, that's good. Would you come with me, please?" the general asked, continuing his stride down the hall. Lenalee blinked, meeting eyes with Lavi before realizing how far behind she was falling.

"Y-Yes!" she called, rushing after him, flustered. Lavi blinked, suddenly finding himself alone with options.

Sure, he could go find a partner for his game like he had originally planned. But noon was also creeping up, and he could definitely go for some ham or something.

Yet, both of these courses of actions were quickly discarded. Leaving Lenalee _by herself_ with the Order's most infamous womanizer seemed like a _really_ bad idea…

And really interesting to watch.

Hours and hours had gone by, a fact Allen could only be sure of due to the steady increase in his stomach's growling. That his master would take so long to let him out without bringing him a meal only served to infuriate him further. Not to mention he was definitely dirty again—it was terribly dusty, no one had been in this storeroom for a long time. The prospect of another bath would not have weighed so heavily on his temper in any other situation.

Actually, as Allen mulled it over, another chance to drown himself was probably a good thing, assuming he could make it to the bathroom before the repercussions of whatever Cross was doing caught him first.

This sickened Allen more. It was just like Cross to butt into his personal life when he wasn't wanted, but did he have to leave Allen feeling so powerless? Normally he'd just play out his newly hatched scheme in front of Allen's face, or at least when he was younger. Allen never was able to do anything about it. If Cross's scheme now was so meticulously planned that Allen had to be left out of the picture, that could only mean really, _really_ bad things for the young exorcist.

He had to get out. Of course, Allen had already scanned the entire room for equipment that could help him. Unfortunately, every time he got up to look around, Maria's head would turn to follow. Never had his master's necromancy pissed him off so badly (sure it was kind of disgusting, but it never really had been turned on him like this). To have her used to the point of breaking Allen's synchronization felt like a violation on a new level for Cross. Allen wouldn't have put it past him to begin with, but to have him _actually_ do it…

Allen was making a steady habit of pounding his fist into the ground to relieve stress, his bruising knuckles an assurance of this fact. After calming down a little, he held his fist before his face and fingered his digits where they were turning blue. Timcanpy hopped down his shoulder to settle on them, almost in a repentant way.

The golden golem was met with another fierce glare. Allen had yet to forgive the little ball for betraying his secret. In reality, Allen was well-aware that Tim, assuming the golem was indeed sentient, probably had had no choice in the matter. However, having not been presented with such evidence, and since Tim was incapable of helping Allen out of his little predicament, the fluttering golem was just another distraction that fueled Allen's anger.

Allen considered, for a moment, grabbing Timcanpy and flattening him into the ground. Yes, it would be very unfair, for both of them actually. Timcanpy would just piece whatever had fallen off back together and be good as…

Good as new.

Allen's heart began to pound. Chancing a glance at Maria—the corpse only continuing to stare—he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, rolling his eyes to look at the bottom of the sealed door he sat against. Slowly, inconspicuously, he brought his free hand to finger at the bottom crease, and to his joy, there was a gap. The door didn't quite reach the ground, even if the gap might have been a little small for Allen's idea. He only had one shot, and he would have to make it count.

He curled his knees up and set Timcanpy on them so the two were nose to nose. His breathing was excited, so he took a moment to calm down. He didn't know if Maria could hear him, or even understand him, but he couldn't take that chance. Timcanpy seemed to understand that Allen wanted to say something to him. It waited very patiently, happy that maybe it wasn't in so much trouble anymore. When Allen opened his eyes again, Tim gave off the impression of straightening up.

"Tim," Allen whispered very lightly. Tim fluttered its wings a little. "Listen, I don't have time to make a message. I need you to find Lenalee and bring her here as quickly as you can. Can do you that?"

Tim nodded so vigorously that Allen had to grab it before it drew Maria's suspicions.

"Don't let Master Cross see you," he warned, taking the golem in his left hand. He positioned his body so that Maria wouldn't be able to see his left arm before it was too late.

As he brought his fist to a ready near his face, Allen hesitated.

"Sorry about this, Tim."

Allen felt the golem crush into thousands of tiny pieces in his palm as it collided with the floor. Wasting no time, Allen flipped over, supporting himself with his knees as he shoved as many of the pieces he could beneath the door and onto the other side. He scooped at little piles that had not made it through, pressing them desperately into the crack as Maria began to sing again. He managed to get a particular large piece in when his fingers fell slack and he was suddenly on his feet before he could think twice. Maria had him walk away from the door this time before she released his mind. Allen whirled around to watch the door, praying enough of Tim had made it to the other side.

Several of the remaining pieces shuddered, leaving Allen with bated breath. After a few agonizing seconds, the golden bits crawled their way under the door. At his lucky success, Allen felt hope rising inside him when he wasn't sure if there was anything good that could come out of this mess in the first place.


End file.
